


With Sunlight Pouring In

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although he'd traveled much of Terca Lumireis, Flynn had never had occasion to visit the Shaikos Ruins. There was a sort of beauty to them and a strange sense of stillness, of time slowed almost to a standstill. It felt like they could spend weeks there unchanged while the world outside continued right along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Sunlight Pouring In

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales and Vesperia and do not belong to me.

When Flynn and Yuri had been children, they'd used to go camping in the lower quarter sometimes. On summer nights, the little stands of stunted trees that grew along the banks of the creek became uncharted wilds. Abandoned warehouses turned into the ruins of lost civilizations. Those warm evenings had been filled with lamp lit explorations, picnics of sandwiches squashed from being carted around in their packs, and stories told in darkness as they drifted off, nestled side by side in their bedrolls under open skies or on dusty floors beneath high-hung windows.

Such memories were foremost in Flynn's thoughts as he and Yuri made their way to the Shaikos Ruins via the woods outside of Halure. He was on holiday for the first time in a year and that sense of freedom combined with his nostalgia left him itching to race Yuri up the trail or challenge him to a friendly duel. Without his Commandant's uniform or armor, he felt lighter in a more than physical sense. The trappings of his office were weighted with power and an expectation of decorum that growing up in the lower quarter hadn't prepared him to shoulder. All things considered, he felt that he was handling the honor and responsibilities rather well, but he wasn't about to deny that it was a relief to be able to leave it all behind, at least for a little bit.

He was only half listening as Yuri went on about a recent bar fight he'd gotten into. Every now and again, he would see his friend stop to shadow box or kick the air or mime some other small offense during the course of the fight. He let the words wash over him, more in tune with Yuri's tone, his rapid excitement or calm pride. Repede seemed to share Flynn's mood. He loped in and out of the shadows beneath the trees, dashing ahead, circling back, and not even pretending to pay Yuri any mind.

The forest was a lush, deep green, veiled in shadow and illuminated every now and again by effervescent shafts of sunlight filled with dust motes that swirled like champagne bubbles. Bell-shaped blue flowers hung in shy clusters among the leaves and practically glowed when caught in the fall of a stray sunbeam. The moss beneath their feet was soft and springy and a bright, brilliant green. Still jeweled with the night's dew in the shadiest hollows, the heat of the morning was quickly evaporating the silver droplets, leaving the air shimmering and softening the edges of the world. Playful breezes stirred their hair and tickled their skin, and the rain-laden clouds overhead passed by without loosing a single droplet.

They came to the end of the woods with little warning. Cool, green shadows gave way suddenly to bright, open spaces, and a gust of wind tore across the grassy plain as they stepped out into the clear sunlight. The mountains lay before them, their destination a hazy point near the base of the nearest peak. Yuri's chatter had ceased, and he picked up the pace, striding through the rustling grass with sudden eagerness. No longer weakened by the maze of trees, the wind caught at his hair as it passed. Catching up, Flynn saw Yuri grinning even as he pushed strands of it time and again out of his face. Next to them, Repede trotted along, tail waving like a banner.

The Shaikos Ruins rose up before them out of the plain, a cluster of thick, stone walls and toppled columns gone green-tinged with an accumulation of moss. Even from a distance, Flynn could see that large chunks of the masonry had fallen from their places. Walls were parted like curtains, arches stretched most of the way over a central walk, only to shear off midair and hang incomplete. He picked out more details as they got closer: the inscribed pattern of vine-like shapes that trailed along the walls, the missing paving stones that exposed the ground beneath the empty walkway, great chunks of fallen stonework, statues that rose above the ruin, and, all throughout, signs that Shaikos was slowly being reclaimed by the earth. Moss furred the stonework, grass and bushes had worked their way up between the paving stones, and trailing vines clung to the walls, tendrils digging into the rock and crumbling it slowly away.

Gradually, the sound of running water reached their ears, and Flynn realized that the fountain halfway up the rubble-cluttered steps that led up the main walk was still functioning. It must have been fed by a mountain spring, rather than regulated by blastia like the fountain back home had been.

They slowed as they entered the ruins, and Flynn listened to the changing sound of their footsteps over the paving stones. Thick, heart-shaped leaves of creeping vines spilled over the walls, soaking up the sun. Aqueducts ran through the center of the walkway, set deeper into the ground and displayed in cutout rectangles like a shining ribbon woven through the stone.

Repede made a quick circuit of the walkway leading up to the first flight of steps, then huffed and raced back out over the plain to hunt bunwiggles or simply to enjoy the day. Flynn watched him go with a smile.

“It's the perfect day for a picnic, isn't it?”

Yuri was peering down into an entrance to the lower levels, but he looked up at that with a grin. “We got lucky. You hungry already, or do you want to take a look around first?”

“Let's explore a little.”

Although he'd traveled much of Terca Lumireis, Flynn had never had occasion to visit these ruins. There was a sort of beauty to them and a strange sense of stillness, of time slowed almost to a standstill. It felt like they could spend weeks there unchanged while the world outside continued right along.

Running a hand along one of the downed sections of wall, he marveled at how tightly the blocks of stone still held together after having fallen. He wondered, though, why the lumpy, broken surface was so smooth. It almost looked as if the stone had melted rather than cracked.

“I wonder what could have done this.”

Yuri came to peer over his shoulder. “Back when I came here with the others, we fought some sort of blastia-powered, mechanical monster. Maybe that's what did it.” He turned to go back to his own explorations. “Maybe it was whatever that monster had been built to fight.”

The stone was warm beneath his fingers. The moss tickled his palms. His earlier nostalgia returned in a rush. This fallen section was as tall as his chest, and begging to be climbed. As children, they'd have seen the myriad hills of rubble, the shadowy corners, and the unintended passageways as an incredible place to play. Now, Flynn stepped around the larger rocks in his path, and kept to the paving stones. He let his fingers trail along the wall and resisted the urge to scale it and declare himself King of New Shaikos.

Apparently, Yuri had no such reservations. He climbed a fallen section of the wall and hauled himself up on top, then took a moment to survey his surroundings. When he looked down, one hand planted on his hip, he was grinning and looking carefree in a way Flynn hadn't seen from him since childhood.

“Slowpoke,” Yuri taunted. “What are you waiting for?”

“The loss of my common sense. Come down before you bring the rest of the wall with you.”

Shaking his head, Yuri took a few steps backwards, moving further into the ruins. “Bet I can beat you up to the top of the stairs.”

“Yuri—”

He had only just begun to protest when Yuri pivoted on his heel and took off dashing along the top of the wall. When he reached a gap, he leapt to the ground without a thought and was up the other side in a flash, hopping clumps of vines and teetering around sections where chunks of the stone had fallen away. Flynn paced him, as much to be nearby in case he fell as because he knew he could overtake Yuri easily along the main walkway. He was grinning as he went, watching Yuri scramble up and over every obstacle that had fallen across his path.

A toppled section of the wall made a ramp that led up one story to a landing ringed by a carved balustrade. It would take Yuri well out of his way, but Flynn could see he meant to make for it even before Yuri went scrambling up the stone. The route gained him height, but took him far off the direct path, and it cost him speed. Flynn caught a glimpse of Yuri raising his arms, teetering along the narrower railing, but the stairs he was on were littered with broken fragments of a column, and he had to look down to watch his step.

For just a moment, he lost sight of Yuri, and it was in that moment that he heard a hair-raising grating sound, the sound of stone crumbing away. Yuri gave a shout, surprised and foreshortened by a thud and then silence, and Flynn stumbled as his head snapped up. Yuri was nowhere in sight, and he raced up the short flight of stairs and onto the landing below the balustrade. There, in the shadows behind a statue, he found Yuri grimacing and rubbing his right wrist.

“Heh. Foot went right out from under me.” He put on a sheepish smile for Flynn, who masked his relief with an irritated roll of his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He took Flynn's offer of a hand up, but stumbled as he got to his feet. Looking down, he took a hopping step closer, favoring his right foot. “Maybe not.”

With a sigh, Flynn cast a quick healing spell before wrapping Yuri's good arm around his shoulders. “Come out into the light so I can take a look.”

They hobbled over to a section of wall that had fallen flat on its side where Yuri tore free to sit down. Flynn was less surprised by that than by the way Yuri had accepted his help in the first place. It was one of the subtle changes he'd been seeing in his friend ever since Yuri had left Zaphias and saved the world. There used to be bitterness in Yuri's competitive streak. That was gone, now. His pride might not like the fact that he needed the occasional helping hand, but at least he had learned to accept it.

Kneeling before him, Flynn took his injured foot in hand and carefully slipped his boot off. Even still, he felt Yuri flinch—involuntarily, of course; he made no sound to indicate he was still in any pain. Since the loss of the blastia, Flynn's healing spells hadn't been quite as effective, though he kept meaning to find more time to practice the new method of casting. For the time being, he did the best he could, which involved a gentle examination of Yuri's swelling ankle. It seemed to be no worse than a sprain, nothing bleeding, nothing broken, and he sat back, relieved. It would take a little bit of time to heal, and they ought to wrap it, but another healing spell would probably speed the process a bit.

“Jeeze, Flynn. Think I'll live?” Deadpan sarcasm was all too often Yuri's response to a show of concern.

“I think I'll enjoy this vacation more if I'm not saddled with an invalid.”

Pulling his foot free, Yuri used his toes to tilt Flynn's chin up to meet the spark of challenge in his eyes. “Come up here and call me an invalid to my face.”

Flynn wasn't about to play Yuri's game, though, not after he'd just gotten himself hurt fooling around. Instead, he cradled Yuri's heel and ducked his head, letting his lips slip over heated skin to place a kiss on his ankle. The second healing spell lit up his hands and washed across Yuri's skin like a cool breeze. It tingled against his lips.

Expecting mockery over the gesture, he raised his eyes. It seemed, however, that Yuri's mood had shifted with the suggestion in his actions. Gazing down with dark, expectant eyes, he ignored the windblown strands of hair that brushed across his face as he reached out.

Suddenly, Flynn was transformed from a healer at his friend's feet to a worshiper at an altar as old as the first pair of lovers. Gently setting Yuri's foot down, he caught that beckoning hand in his and nuzzled against it, pressing kisses into the palm. He allowed himself to be drawn up into a kiss as light as the sunbeams that poured down around them. They had planned a picnic amid the ruins, but there were other appetites to satisfy and, before this trip, it had been so long since the last time he had tasted Yuri on his tongue. In the way of so many of their arguments, what had started as teasing had swiftly turned serious. It was nice, Flynn thought hazily, to see that progression applied to something more pleasant than a fight for once.

The draw of Yuri's touch had been desire rather than pressure, but now his hands carded through Flynn's hair, curled warmly around the back of his neck, pulled him in closer. Blindly, half lost in the kiss and chasing after the promise it conveyed, he followed Yuri onto the stone. Clothes rustled as they were pulled aside, making no more noise than the soft gasp of breath or the thundering of his pulse. Yuri moaned for him and Flynn lapped it up, swallowed it down. He bore Yuri down onto the mossy stone, haloing him with a pillow of the climbing vines that sprouted all over the ruins. The sharp scent of their broken leaves filled Flynn's nose as he settled his weight over Yuri.

They moved together slowly, as if the sunlight had made a pool of the ruins, pouring in like clear water. Indeed, Flynn felt as if he was floating, there on that perfect day, free of burdens and responsibilities and wrapped up so completely in Yuri that there seemed no distinction between them. Their voices rang out into a place undisturbed for ages. They consecrated the stone beneath them with their sweat and seed, and the moss drank down the offering as their nails left furrows in the green.

At last they lay sated and breathless, still wound close around each other as the wind dried their skin and the sun warmed them. They kissed languidly and touched with the simple joy of being close enough to do so. When Yuri moved to get up, Flynn nearly had strength enough to hold onto him, to keep him close and curl up against him so they could doze off together. Laughing, Yuri slipped free of his grasp, even caught up Flynn's hands to place teasing kisses on his fingers.

Unconcerned by his nakedness, Yuri strode to the fountain and took a seat on its rim. Propping himself up on an elbow, Flynn watched as he reached down. Droplets of refracted sunlight flashed as they fell from his cupped hand as he sipped the water in his palm. Flynn joined him there, and the finest wine in Zaphias couldn't compare to the faint taste of spring water on Yuri's lips.


End file.
